


True North

by Grahaam



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, I will not pass judgement on anyone or their ships but this wasn't written for the romance, No Romance, Not Beta Read, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, because Jeremy is criminally underrated, but I'm a beta reader too lol so kinda beta read, he's a rat bastard but he's my emotional support rat bastard, it's Outlast there will be some gore in later chapters, nothing too graphic pinky swear, this isn't a ship fic btw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-28
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 00:35:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24954658
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grahaam/pseuds/Grahaam
Summary: There are very few people in this world capable of extreme cruelty without hesitation or consideration for those who it effects.Jeremy Blaire used to be one of those people.But when his world came crashing down around him, and his hands were coated in the blood of Murkoff's victims, things changed. Mount Massive is gone, Murkoff is crumbling, and Jeremy has nothing left but the promise of hope in one ex-software engineer turned whistleblower who walks free.
Kudos: 14





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! this is the Jeremy Blaire canon-divergent redemption arc you didn't know you needed! barring weird unforeseen circumstances, I'm going to update this at least once a week but probably be twice most of the time! I currently have 10 chapters planned but you know that's probably gonna change lol. massive thank you to my friend Micah @gothivican on Tumblr for coming up with this AU and for reassuring me that I know how to write. she has some sketches and more ideas related to this over on her blog, so go check that out for sure! xoxo Lizzy

At first, there was nothing.

It was almost biblical, the overwhelming darkness and silence.

Then came the smell. Phantom coppery blood melted into something sharper, to the unmistakable scent of alcohol and cold, unforgiving metal.

Next was hearing. Regular intervals of beeps. Hushed voices that sounded almost familiar speaking in something that wasn’t language, just noise. Interrupted with the neverending pulse of an electronic heartbeat.

Then the light. Pupils constricted to pinpricks at the burning brightness. Synthetic light looks so different from the other side of the bulb. He would know, he’d watched enough eyes try to hide from it.

“...and then we’ll see what information we can get from him. Wait- he’s awake. Nurse, he’s awake.”

“I’ll fetch the doctor.”

“Mr. Blaire? Jeremy, are you there? Do you know who you are? Can you tell us what happened?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is just a short n sweet little prologue, the real story begins in the next chapter. see you there ;)


	2. chapter 1- lateral ascension

Lord help the poor intern who had to deliver more bad news to Jeremy today of all days. Today was not a good day to begin with. 

Jeremy was tired and pissed off. What little satisfaction he derived from watching as Waylon Park’s unconscious body was dragged off to the Engine was dampened by the paperwork that came with it. Not to mention the fit that the weasel’s brat of a wife threw. Lisa Park’s insults and threats were empty, he knew that. Still, both she and her husband were like little gnats swarming around his face. Ultimately harmless, but _annoying as hell_.

The stale, still air in his office wasn’t helping much either. Executives got topside offices with windows that looked out over the Colorado mountains, but Jeremy’s curtains stayed tightly shut almost indefinitely. There was just something about the mustard yellow walls and the growing number of unanswered emails in his inbox that planted the seed of a migraine into Jeremy’s head.

Mount Massive somehow managed to be a technological marvel and a husk at the same time. It could have been beautiful once, but age and the years of abandonment had taken their toll on the old asylum. There’d been just enough cosmetic work done to make it livable, but not much else. The reasoning was that only patients and staff would ever really see the interior. Patients were too far gone to care, and the staff got paid enough to have beautiful homes outside of work.

The place had been going to shit security-wise for a while, that wasn’t news to anyone with eyes. That being said, there was a certain _expectation_ of the scientists to keep the subjects sedated. To keep them drugged up to the point where they weren’t a threat anymore. If they were allowed to be aware of what was happening to them, there might be anarchy.

~

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Lateral ascension?” Jeremy looked up from his monitor and met the intern with a glare. “And what are they doing about it?” If looks could kill.

“I don’t know entirely, Mr. Blaire, sir, but they’re not happy about it… and they want you down there.”

Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed before standing and adjusting the cuff of his button-down. “This better be worth my time.”

~

The Engine was a thing of beauty in its own way. It hummed and breathed like some dormant old god with metal skin and wire arteries. At the moment, it looked like the god was awakening. Scientists scrambled like ants to control the alarms flaring red around the cavern of a room. Jeremy strode into the control room with the confidence and the air of a powerful man inconvenienced. 

“You. Tell me what’s going on right now.” He snapped at the head scientist, foregoing any greeting. 

“Things aren’t looking good-

“Obviously.”

“-the systems aren’t built to handle this volume of information this fast. Hope’s brain activity spiked and hasn’t come down. We’re trying to sedate him but he’s not responding to any dose of any medication. They’ve come as close as medically possible without overdosing but there’s no decline. This is the strongest response to the treatment we’ve ever seen in any subject, but if we don’t get him out and shut it down soon, we may fry every system we have.”

“Listen to me. Do you know much this project is worth?”

“No, but-”

“Do you know what it would mean for this project to succeed? You are not going to shut it down. You’re going to get the damn situation under control and you’re going to pick his brain apart when he’s done with the treatment. Find out why he responded the way he did. Do you understand me? Have I made myself clear?”

“But the systems-”

“I think I made myself clear. Get it under control.” Jeremy turned on his heel and started back towards the massive metal sliding doors when a deafening bang sounded behind him, immediately drowning out the chatter of scientists and alarms. He whipped back around, ears ringing, and watched as one by one, the lights of the computers started flicking out. 

The overhead lights died last, making their dramatic exit. Almost as if on cue, a cascade of sparks illuminated the great metal beast in the main engine room. The light caught the wires and transformed them into a monstrous face for a split second. It grinned at him. _You did this, you bastard. Now you’ll get what you deserve._ Something like a dismembered scream broke through the ringing as it sounded in the distance. 

  
_Oh shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> more short n sweet, I promise future chapters will be longer! much love everyone!


	3. chapter 2- antiseptic

“The official report says there are no survivors, but that isn’t true, is it?”

Jeremy sighed softly and glanced down at his hands. The IV hurt. Almost as much as his stomach. He was lucky- the doctor had said- he’d lost a lot of blood, but the internal damage wasn’t so bad that he was beyond saving. He was nearly a lost cause, but the miracles of modern medicine saved him. A decent chunk of his large intestine wasn’t so lucky, but he was still alive. The irony wasn’t lost on him that the ventilator that had been his lifeline for the past week was manufactured and designed by Murkoff Systems. _The onward march of fucking science._

Survivor. The word carried connotations of a life to be lived full of condolences. Like he was some kind of wounded animal who had managed to escape from the jaws of the beast- a comparison that wasn’t very far from the truth. He’d survived one of the most gruesome events in the history of the Murkoff Corporation, potentially one of the worst bloodbaths in modern history. Nobody would ever know that if the company had any say in things though. He would never be known as a survivor to anyone except for a select few who had the clearance to know he was alive. 

Clean it up and come up with a story to tell the public, that was the way of things. Don’t worry about the collateral damage so long as it doesn’t pose a threat to the power or wealth of those at the top. Anyone who wanted to keep food on the table and the debt collectors at bay had learned to look the other way. 

It was a stroke of genius, if Jeremy did say so himself. A brilliant way to run a business, all ethics aside. What was it that Macchiavelli said? Better to be feared than loved? Sage advice for an executive at a morally questionable corporation. Employees would stay quiet if the consequences of speaking up were great enough. For a conglomerate the size of Murkoff, consequences had the potential to be devastating, life-ruining. If that didn’t work, the backup plan was cut a check big enough to buy anyone’s silence. Staff, patients, families- the desperate and afraid proved to be quite loyal and quite willing to look away when they needed to. 

It had been nearly fail-proof for years. Even so, there were a few who slipped through the cracks. The idealists, the ones who got into their heads that they could change the system without stopping to consider that they were part of it. Haas, Peacock, and now Park.

He didn’t want to think about Park. Thinking about Park made his head hurt right behind his eyes.

For five days, Jeremy had been in a medically induced coma. Five days had never felt so long. He’d been found unconscious on the front steps of Mount Massive in a puddle of his own warm crimson blood, barely breathing. The darkness had seemed to drag on for eons, a kind of completely empty nothingness that stretched into eternity until suddenly it didn’t. When he’d woken up, he’d started gagging and choking around the breathing tube in a fit of panic. Fifteen-odd minutes had elapsed since then, doctors and nurses filing in and out, checking numbers and scratching things down onto their clipboards. A doctor had explained the situation to him, and as each moment passed, he regained some clarity. 

Now, he was propped up in bed with a flat pillow behind the small of his back that crinkled when he moved. The painkillers were making him numb, he was sure, but still a dull ache radiated throughout him. His hand hurt, and so did everything else. 

“As far as I know, I’m the only one who made it out alive.”

“But that’s not true either, Jeremy.”

“What motivation would I have to lie to you? I’m not stupid. I’m a liability now. We both know letting me walk away from this would be bad for the company.”

Pauline Glick sat down on the stiff hospital couch and crossed her legs. “It’s nice to know the blood loss didn’t make you stupid. You know where you stand. But it did make you a liar. What motivation would you have to lie to me? Honestly? I think the more prudent question is what motivation would you have to let Waylon Park go?”

“I don’t know.”

“He’s a greater liability than you are. But you put a target on your own back when you let the liability walk free.”

“I didn’t think I’d survive to have a target in the first place.”

“Of course you didn’t. Why else would you be so reckless? Wasn’t Park a nuisance to you? Weren’t all the employees with faltering loyalty? How did you describe them to me once? Flies?”

_Gnats. They were gnats._

The air stood still. He didn’t respond. He didn’t need to. There was nothing to say that could convince her of his loyalty now. The damage was done and his fate laid in her hands, hands that had once shook his own in respect. They’d once been peers. They’d once seen eye to eye on how things should be handled. Once, they were the cutthroat predators who worked their way to the top on the backs of those weaker. Compassion was human error that led to mistakes. The predators had no time for mistakes. Mistakes meant money lost and time wasted. There was nothing worse than time wasted on _frivolous bullshit._

“I don’t think we’re going to get anywhere with this conversation. He just woke up, he’s still coming around.” A voice spoke up. Paul Marion had always been the weaker of the two, in Jeremy’s opinion. Maybe that could work in his favor now, maybe there was a chance of walking away from this, for starting some life in anonymity. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Paul turned to face Jeremy, “You need to regain your strength. Rest, we can come back tomorrow morning.”

“Wait, I need to know one last thing,” Pauline stood and walked to his bedside and looked down at him, something between pity and bitterness in her eyes. She regarded him like he was a hurt child who needed a kiss for a scraped knee. As though he’d fallen from grace in her eyes. The patronizing stare made rage bubble up in his stomach. _I used to be like you, I still am you. And you are just as much me. Don’t look at me like I’m less than you! I was your superior! I was-_ “And this is off the record.” He was jerked out of his internal spiral by her voice. Rage would do him no good now, not when his fate was in such a delicate balance. He stilled his thoughts, pushed them down and prioritized the essentials like he’d done so often before. _What do I need to do to accomplish my goal, to survive?_

“Understood.” Jeremy looked at his IV and watched as the morphine dripped down the tubing. One, two, three, steady drips. Steady heartbeat on the monitor. _Focus. She will kill you. She’s done it before. She killed people for Murkoff. People just like you. There’s blood on her hands, but I was right before. We are still just like one another. I killed people for Murkoff too._

He was at war with himself. There was a part of him that wanted to be reasonable and rational, the part of him that knew that playing their game meant safety. Maybe quietly being demoted, maybe retiring early with a nice severance package. But another part of him grew by the minute. A part of him that couldn’t stand by and be complicit in their plots any longer. That part which longed to run far and fast and hide with a name, an identity that wasn’t his own. But that was safety too, wasn’t it? Turning away and hoping to watch a news story about the company’s fall one day. 

“Pauline, he’ll be here tomorrow.” Paul’s voice was simultaneously gentle and unflinching. 

He couldn’t tell who he despised more in the moment, Glick or Marion. Marion’s pity and concern may have been genuine, but it still stung like a slap across the face. Still, in the name of survival, if he had to be the wounded animal, he would. 

She waved him off. “Do you know where Park went?”

“I don’t know.”

“Would you tell me if you did know?”

He hesitated momentarily, mulling it over in his head. _Would I?_ “I don’t know. I don’t know what damage he’s capable of, and I don’t know if he has enough guts to do anything. You know that their bravery,” he shifted in the bed, sitting up straighter, “it sometimes only lasts for a moment. They get some kind of rush thinking about justice or vindication or some other heroic deed. He tried to send the email, but it was… it was hell in there. It would change him. He saw the effects of the experiments and he has a wife and children. I don’t think Waylon Park is as dangerous as you think he is.”

“I think Waylon Park has the drive and now the means to cause some serious harm if he so chooses. Everyone is a threat until we know they aren’t, or did you forget that?”

“I didn’t forget anything. I know what risk he poses.”

“And yet he still got out unharmed. You were there. You had the capability to stop him, and you didn’t. Why?” Pauline started pacing the room like a shark circling its prey. “Can we trust you, Mr. Blaire? You are a liability but you are also still officially on the Murkoff payroll.”

“I thought there weren’t any survivors on paper. I thought I was officially dead.” Jeremy carefully evaded the question about trust. He didn’t even know the answer himself. 

“There are ways to make the reports say whatever we want. Let’s say you were conveniently on a business trip in Denver and weren’t there during the incident.”

Her questions felt like a test that she already knew the answers to. There was no way he would be allowed to return to his former life, much less his position in the company, not with everything that had happened. 

“If your question is whether I’m going to file a lawsuit or try to come after the company, the answer is no.”

“How do I know you aren’t lying to me about this too?”

“Because I know what power they- we- hold. I know how this works, Pauline. Excuse me- Ms. Glick. I don’t want to see Murkoff destroyed. I don’t. I worked too damn hard for too damn long to see it all come crumbling down.” Jeremy kept his voice even. The words were coming before he had the chance to consider them. They weren't complete lies- he’d worked for years of his life to get the company to where it was. It would be painful to watch his magnum opus crumble. But the fall had started and if he tried to stay, he would be crushed on impact.

She grinned spitefully and leaned over to hiss in his ear. “I think you’re a filthy liar. Something changed you. Men like Park used to be your prey.”

He met her eyes, refusing to react. This was more than business, it was personal. Maybe in his failure, she saw the potential for her own. If they were just the same, she was just as likely to have her own fall from grace.

“I think I need to take some time off.” Everyone in the room knew it was just a euphemism. If Jeremy left the company now, he wasn’t going to come back. It was the unspoken truth. “On the record. I think I need to take a leave of absence for an indefinite amount of time.”

Paul cleared his throat. “I can offer you this. I have a nondisclosure agreement and papers to terminate your contract of employment with the Murkoff Corporation with me now. Make it nice and neat, we all go our separate ways and nobody gets sued, nobody gets hurt.” He opened his briefcase and produced a manila folder. “It’s a good deal, Jeremy. If it were me, I’d take it. Walk away from all of this. Leave it behind you.” 

This was it, his ticket away from everything. He really could walk away and never come back. But now, as he was faced with the decision, he could feel the two halves of him fighting again. _I could stay. I could go back to how things were and brush this off as a lapse in judgment in strange circumstances. I could forget this happened and I wouldn’t have to live with myself knowing it was my fault._ A small voice inside his head broke his inner monologue. _But now that you’ve realized it, you can never forget. You have to live knowing what you’ve done either way._

“Can I see the papers?” Jeremy took them as Paul extended them out to him. He skimmed over them, subconsciously looking for some kind of answer. He found none, just the standard legal jargon. It was strange, he’d seen many papers like these before but he was never the one whose name was on them. _Sign them or tear them in half._

_If the jurors or judge have no doubt as to the defendant's guilt, or if their only doubts are unreasonable doubts, then the prosecutor has proven the defendant's guilt beyond a reasonable doubt and the defendant should be pronounced guilty._ Was Murkoff beyond his reasonable doubts? Could he pronounce Murkoff as guilty and leave it all behind? 

There was something stirring in his gut, something deep below the apathy and the pain and even beneath the boiling rage. Something heavy. Something that told him that if he signed the papers, there could be no going back to everything he once knew. It told him that uncertainty was all he would find. 

It was a decision of courage and cowardice. Either choice he made, there would be both. Staying was safe, but the strength would be in returning to normal. Leaving- leaving was brave. Leaving meant there was nothing out there for him anymore. But leaving could just as easily be an act of cowardice if he tried to pretend he wasn’t complacent in what had happened. 

Fear was hardly an excuse anymore. How could it be, after the bloodshed at Mount Massive? After the fear he'd seen in Waylon’s eyes when he was thrown into the engine? In the moment, the fear in Park’s was victorious, another problem squashed. But when the world had gone to shit, the fear came for Jeremy too. He still felt the residual shockwaves of running for his life. In that moment at the door, they’d seen eye to eye. Two people afraid for their lives. Park hadn’t hesitated when he left, despite not knowing what awaited him out there. Survive. You have to survive. Get out alive.

_Is surviving all there is anymore? Or is there something else?_

He couldn’t use fear as an excuse. Not anymore. His head throbbed in protest. He made up his mind.

“May I see a pen please?”

~

“Pauline, before you go, can I ask you something?” 

“Yes, what is it?”

“I know what the official report said, but obviously not everyone died in there.” He pushed himself up straighter in bed. “Besides Park and myself, did anyone else make it?”

“That’s classified information to you now.”

“Please? As an old colleague.”

She picked up her blazer with a sigh. “Some staff got out when the riots started. But after a certain point, no. The tactical operations team neutralized any living patients and there wasn’t any staff alive to rescue. Almost like they were targeting Murkoff employees.” There was a note of sarcasm in her voice. “Was there anyone in particular you were asking about?”

Jeremy hesitated for a moment. “Just an old friend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow so uh I finally finished this


End file.
